


“mon propre accord.”

by Anonymous



Category: One Piece
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Multi, OC Likes to mess up Plot, Original Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-20 22:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30012150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A common tale of being reborn into a new life, following the simple person given the chance to attempt something that was out of their comfort zone. It’s alright though, because with a new name and new chances; Vinsmoke Goji is confident that he can try and repair the pain-staking events within this accursed manga.“I don’t sail the seas for freedom, but in hopes that I can give others freedom.”
Relationships: Trafalgar D. Water Law & Original Character(s), Vinsmoke Reiju & Original Character(s), Vinsmoke Sanji & Original Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12
Collections: anonymous





	“mon propre accord.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a project mostly for my own desire, but feel free to follow along. 
> 
> I want to experiment with a plot like this, as well try my hand at sculpting a new character from the ground up. Beware though, I’m not confident in how this’ll come out as I don’t write much multi-chapter content.

There’s two types of chaos that are destined to follow the  _ New Pirate Era _ , which will make the world bend to it so hard that the universe may crack. A right, a purpose given straight at birth, given way before it’s announced to those around. The ocean hums at the proclamations, whether approvingly or not, before it decides that just like any other child— it’ll love them until it’s waves tear them into the water like an overwhelming hug. 

One of which is the King of Piracy, who’ll dominate the seas in search of a freedom more freer than the sea sprays that are aided by the ocean’s breeze. Gol D. Roger succeeded in that, and the world both sang and cursed his name. He didn’t care though, laughing and passing on a straw hat akin to that of a crown for whoever was next to follow his steps. 

The next is the breakage of whatever Justice was braided over to suffocate the sea, wielding colors that screamed heroes yet the polished white never was that angelic. Those Revolutionaries willing to shatter the World Government stay within the shadows, awaiting its chance to strike. Maybe that’s their secret power, patience and knowledge. 

Those who know of what will come over the world tend to laugh over their jug of rum, maybe even cry. It’s almost euphoric, a change that hasn’t happened since shipwrights began to tinker pirate vessels and navigators started to board ships in order to explore the unknown. 

“Want my treasure?” A man joyfully responds, to a crowd who blinks with shock. The executioners begin to raise their weapons, the Navy is demanding that they hurry. “You can have it!” 

A race is about to begin, declared by the man with a large black moustache and eyes piercing into the crowd. 

“ **I left everything I gathered together in one place! Now you'll just have to find it** !”

To think that Roger didn’t necessarily die—  _ his corpse belongs in the sea, cradled around the one thing that drove all pirates to the salty waters _ —as he still lives on in the tales told at bars and rookies taking dinghys out into the waters to conquer the crown that was so heavily spoken about over the past twenty-four years. 

It’s almost breathtaking, even with children around the world still hearing tales of the man who made it to the end of the Grandline. Spoken from those who’ve met him face-to-face or merely passing on stories. 

To each his own, though as Goji closed the files detailing the last decade whilst seated in the library; the boy couldn’t help but smile. It’s a light smile, one that the sun seems to happily carve out with its glowy shine. Outside of the window was the ocean, the sweet scent of salty water. 

The Germa Kingdom was very well off, traveling with ease over the seas with clusters of castles that came together when their king called for it. The architecture was studied by the youngest of the Vinsmoke children many times, still in awe that he was seeing all of this in front of him and felt it with his small hands. Genetically altered soldiers wandered the premises, protecting and learning. They were supposed to be the best after all. The best human that wasn’t truly human. 

Yonji passed his younger brother in the hall, bright green and bearing giddy smile. Even if Goji was technically the last to leave Vinsmoke Sora’s womb, the fourth son always seemed to be the most child-like even with Judge’s altercations on their emotions.

“At the library again!” The boy teased, tugging the cheek of his younger brother as gentle as  _ gentle _ was when it came to Yonji. 

Goji hummed, slapping the other’s fingers away patiently. Even if their emotions were altered and possibly wiped, it didn’t hinder the younger’s hope that they retained some humanity in them aside from the color of blood they leaked when they scraped their knees. 

“I wanted to do some reading before dinner.” 

Yonji grinned ear-to-ear, blinking down at the book in the boy’s grasp. 

“Another one already? You’re going through them faster than Ichiji!” 

Goji simply smiled in reply, before shrugging away and adopting a more placid expression. Too flat for a boy as young as him, but it did the job in letting Yonji know that he wasn’t in for anymore conversations. Yonji needed ques like that, simply a bit more oblivious but it was kind of relieving. 

“I’ll be heading off then, don’t cause trouble.” 

“You act so much older!” The green haired boy huffed, crossed his arms over the four threaded into his shirt. “I came out before, you know!” 

Goji laughs, stepping away and adjusting the bandana around his neck. 

“Act like it then!” 

There’s at least six of them, all varying colors. The future commanders of this accursed royalty, as Vinsmoke Judge likes to declare whenever he’s questioned about his children. 

Reiju is the oldest, bright pink and always smelling like innocent buttercups despite her power being able to manipulate poison. 

Ichiji takes pride in being the first son, red and glowing like the tips of a campfire. 

Niji is blue, like sour candies and calculative as a seastorm. 

Sanji, inheriting Vinsmoke’s signature yellow locks that seemed to glow heavenly. 

Yonji bears an eccentric green, so fitting that Goji often doubts whether it’s genetic or truly Vinsmoke’s doing. 

And then there’s Goji, who’s got striking purple hair that most of Germa seems to admire quite heavily. 

The boy in question twirls a finger into one of the strands, fluffy against his small fingers when he pulls it softly. It bounces back into a wavy shape when he lets go, staring at himself in the mirror with an expression that seemed to hold mysteries beyond what was imaginable. He adjusts the white bandana around his neck once more, making sure it looked more fluffy than flat and sharp like how his older brothers preferred. 

Truthfully, Vinsmoke Goji doesn’t exist. Never did. 

According to the world of One Piece at least, though that was before Goji made his way into reincarnating as one of the damned Vinsmoke spawn. Amongst the collections of manga he collected in his past life, whoever it was that gave him another chance decided that his next life definitely had to be the one with power-fueled fruits and pirates. 

Amongst the many mysteries of life, Goji didn’t question this one. He was happy to exist in this world despite the obvious obstacles that will keep it from being anything except peaceful. At first he had thought that being royalty would mean he could live like a golden spoon, taking all he could get without an ounce of guilt. He was blessed with a powerful army, influence, and luxury. 

He sighs as he remembers Vinsmoke Judge’s demands, the obnoxious desire to be the next conquerors that will help his army rule wherever he wishes to rule. All of them commanders that were to grow up strong, vicious and never relenting. 

That’s what Judge wanted, and that was far from what Goji had the patience for. 

Sanji doesn’t protest when Goji grabs his hand in passing, the blonde crying with tears in his eyes and gauze keeping blood from dribbling out his nose. The purple-haired boy keeps his grip on his older brother’s wrist tight, tugging them out of sight when they get to the room belonging to the youngest of the children. 

It’s as luxurious as a wandering kingdom can get, silky sheets and enough space to maneuver. Albeit everything was bolted down, as Germa as a whole had a tendency to crawl over mountains and encounter the many storms within the New World. However the most dangerous storm for the blonde Vinsmoke child was surviving in a palace that was against him, simply because he was lacking whatever modifications that Judge forced upon them before they were even born. Goji remembers what Vinsmoke Sora looked like and can’t help but see the resemblance in Sanji as the younger boy sat him on his bed. 

“Should be more careful in avoiding them.” 

Sanji only whimpers more, because his body aches from the beating up that his brothers gave him. It didn’t help that their father would push him to train with them tomorrow, which would only aggravate his injuries further. 

“I t-tried..” 

Black-Leg Sanji, crying tears out of pretty obsidian eyes because he was weak. Bruised fingers twiddling as Goji searched his dresser for the all-too-familiar medical box that he kept for situations like these. 

“They cornered me at m-mom’s grave..” 

At that, Goji can’t help but sigh at the retelling. The Vinsmoke sons were technically responsible for Vinsmoke Sora’s death, during childbirth especially. Carrying five children couldn’t certainly leave the mother alive, no matter how much technology was available. Maybe she knew that, coughing up the after effects of the medicine she took to save Sanji. Vinsmoke Judge certainly had a feeling, as he didn’t mourn her as heavily as a widow should. 

This didn’t happen in canon, instead it was one of the peaks of Sanji’s childhood. His mother sickly waiting for him in the infirmary, smiling radiantly as if she was ready to leap out and reveal that she was feeling great thanks to the porridge he made her. 

Without a maternal figure in his life, Goji wondered how Sanji would turn out. 

That’s why Goji took it upon himself to try and be somewhat family to the blonde, even if he was restricted at times. He couldn’t save him from the wrath that was Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji, but he could mend wounds. He could be another Reiju for the boy, a brother. 

(In his past life, Goji wasn’t a good brother. He doesn’t remember seeing his siblings graduations, nor birthdays, not even happy vacations. Distantly, he feels as if he should atone for that.) 

Goji’s wrapping Sanji’s pinky with a bandaid, the wound smelling like hydrogen peroxide thanks to the careful cleaning. The sting of the cut was no more, replaced with a tight but soft bandage. It was a process, slow and time-consuming process. 

“Did..” 

Sanji sniffles, listening attentively even as he watched his brother apply gauze to his scraped palms. He’s careful not to kick Goji with his rocking feet, admiring the way when the bandages are finished being wrapped, the purple-haired boy dug butterfly-like bandage clips into the pattern to keep it secure. Even if it was minimal and knowledge that Sanji doesn’t doubt he could learn, he in the moment believes that Goji would do great as a doctor. 

“Did the buttercups bloom?” Goji asks, short but caring. 

It was a secret project between the two of them, where Goji received flower seeds from the last kingdom they conquered and snuck out with his older brother to plant them. The bouquet on Sora’s gravestone was far wilted, the only semblance of the offering only being the plastic wrapping and dry stems of the former flowers. 

It was a thanks to Sora for managing to birth him through her exhaustion, for carrying his next life and not failing her job as a mother. Maids whispered that she definitely held them before she passed, which Goji doesn’t doubt. The manga illustrated her as gentle, angelic, she definitely would’ve done that. Even if her children would end up as cruel as Judge would make them to be, but that was far from her knowledge at the time. 

The bright glow crossing Sanji’s face answers for him, which gets the blonde to spout about how the most recent rainfall aided in the growth of the blossoms. He described them to be a beautiful yellow, reminding him of the single painting of their mother as well as the memories left behind by maids and passersby. It seemed to truly suit the female monarch, who Goji distantly promised. 

She managed to keep Sanji’s kindness loved and valued, so much that it aided in the Vinsmokes not being assassinated in Big Mom’s territory probably a decade later. If she could do that in canon, then Goji would do it in her place. 

“They were really pretty!” Sanji grinned, looking just as much like a child as he should. Even when Judge decides to throw him away and stomp on whatever Sora had believed to be the best for her children, Goji hopes that Sanji can still feel like a child. “You’ll have to see them soon!” 

The youngest out of the Vinsmokes allows a gummy smile to stretch over his lips, laughing gently. It was definitely uncharacteristic for someone who was supposed to have all his emotions stolen away, but reincarnation seemed to prevent that from happening. It didn’t aid in the hair change and definite inhuman powers, but it was nice to feel genuine emotions. 

Ever since he’s stepped into this world, Goji didn’t care for the consequences that followed after changing the plot. His very presence lured an early death to Vinsmoke Sora, as well as potentially sped up the timeline in which a metal helmet and wet cell floors will become the norm for Sanji. 

There’s a lot to change before Luffy sets sail, which is a long time from now. Though years pass just as quickly as days if not wary, so the purple-haired boy’s done his best to note all the events following from this point. 

_ They’ll be in the North Blue years from now _ , Goji thinks as he lets Sanji read him one of the many books he’s got crammed in his room,  _ a lot happens in the North Blue. _

“This one looks.. w-weird.” 

Goji darts his eyes towards the book his brother’s got in his tiny hands, searching the page until he sees just what Sanji’s bandage-wrapped finger is pointing at. It’s a familiar fish, one that the younger boy seemed to smile at. 

“It says it’s a blue-finned elephant tuna.” Goji reads a bit of the French below the image. “Located in the South Blue.” 

“Think it’ll taste good?” 

Yeah, he’s confident that Sanji will be fine. 

“We’ll never know.” He smiles.

With the two changes that are definitely going to turn the world upside down, Goji decides to be the secretive change that wasn’t like the revolutionaries. He wasn’t strong enough to fight against Vinsmoke Judge, much less the government, not yet at least. 

There’s many names in the list that Goji’s created, as well as plots that he distinctly remembers when he spent time flipping manga pages. Some were dead, some soon to be greeting death, and a whole line of people that the boy was determined to change the fates of. 

**Author's Note:**

> I liked writing the Vinsmokes, albeit I only tackled two. 
> 
> As written, there have been some changes to accommodate the protagonist. I had only learned a few hours ago that the children are in fact, named by numbers and I was both entertained and disappointed. Though to follow the family, Go is five in Japanese (I hope).


End file.
